Chapter 5: Me and Willow

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Luke's POV

Rachel and I walked downstairs. She was at front and watched my steps while I carried the bag.

We arrived at the kitchen, where mom and dad were still discussing something, and let the bag fall onto the table.

Mom and dad looked up. "Luke, what is this?" Mom asked, she didn't seem pleased.

I looked at Rachel, motioning her to explain it. I felt like she could deliver news better.

She looked from me to my parents. "We found this bag in Blair's room."

"So?" Ok, mom wasn't having this. Whatever she and dad were discussing, it must not be something easy.

Rachel opened the bag. "We found this in the bag." She showed them the pocket knife.

"Is that a knife?" Dad looked surprised. "How did it get in Blair's room?"

"Well," Rachel opened the pocket knife and gave it to them. "Here's how."

Both mom and dad looked at it and then at us. "What is this?" mom asked annoyed. "Is this a joke?"

"Not at all, mom." I sighed. "This bag is Willow's. It was in Blair's room."

"Wait," She held her temples. "Wasn't it you two who told us Willow wasn't real and that Blair probably imagined her?"

I slowly nodded.

Rachel looked from me to them. "I thought so too, I think both of us were convinced of that. Especially after that picture." She let out a breath. "But Luke's right," She looked at me for a brief moment before looking back at my parents. "There's something more to Willow, something we have to look for."

"Luke, Rachel..." Mom let out a breath. She put the pocket knife back into the bag. "This isn't a detective series, this is real life. We have to face reality."

"Which we are," I could scream right now, why aren't they listening? Is this how Blair felt? "But you have to understand that there's something to Willow. Blair can't have made her up."

"Why not?" Mom crossed her arms, she seemed very interested all of the sudden.

I looked at Rachel, hoping she had a good explanation.

Rachel looked down. "Blair isn't crazy," She looked up at them. "Whatever or whoever Willow is, she's not simply Blair's imagination."

"How can you know that for sure?" Wow, mom was really testing us...

"We don't," Rachel crossed her arms as well. "But I believe Blair, something else is going on than the plainly obvious."

Mom nodded. "Ok," She looked at dad before looking back at us. "Luke, we appreciate your worries about Blair, but we'll handle that right now."

"It's not only worries, mom, something else is - "

"Yes, you've 'explained'." She looked back at the paperwork. "When Blair was little, she didn't have friends, correct?"

Rachel looked at me, I looked at mom and nodded.

"But she did have parties and sleepovers." Mom looked at me. "How's that possible?"

"Imaginary parties?" I suggested.

"There you go," Mom leaned back, seemingly proud of herself. "She imagined things she didn't have. If she did it then, why not now?"

I wanted to reply, but I didn't really have an answer for that. I looked at Rachel, hoping she had an answer.

"Everyone did that, at some point in his/her life." Rachel crossed her arms as well, she seemed annoyed. "I did that as well, but that doesn't mean I'm imagining those friends again."

Mom nodded. "You know," She went through her papers. "Ever since I heard about Blair dating this Willow girl, something in me thought about that. A feeling." She looked back up at us. "And after going through Blair's file - "

"Blair's file?" Rachel blinked. "What does that mean? What file?"

"I have a file of all the documents, drawing, etc of her since birth until now." She motioned to it. "It comes in handy."

Rachel slowly nodded, but I could see she thought that was strange.

"So, as I was saying, after going through Blair's file, I found it."

"You found what?" Rachel really was interested but irritated at the same time.

Mom took a paper out of the file and placed it on the table, in front of us. "A drawing Blair made when she was 7."

Rachel and I leaned closer, we looked at the drawing.

Rachel looked back up at mom. "So, she drew something. Every 7 year old does that." She groaned. "Why do you always - "

"Rach?" I nudged her, stopping her mid-sentence.

"What?" She looked at me.

I motioned to something on the drawing.

She leaned in closer and then gasped.

"Correct," Mom took the drawing back and then pointed to the thing I just showed Rachel. "Blair's drawing, when she was 7 years old." She looked at it. "Me and Willow." She read. She then looked at us. "Explain that."

I sighed, I felt defeated.

Rachel sighed as well. I think none of us had an explanation for that...

"Blair first met Willow when she was about 5 or 6, she told me about her best friend. I guess after hearing that name again, it clicked." She then looked at dad. "Something's wrong in her head."

Dad kept looking down, as he had been doing ever since we arrived here. I think he wasn't having this as well. I think he was on our side as well. But he wouldn't tell that to mom.

"Then help her!" Rachel raised her voice. "It's so easy to say something's wrong with her, but you have to do something about it."

"Rach," I took her hand, stopping her. "Let's go." I pulled her with me back upstairs. We walked to my room and sat down on my bed.

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Third person's POV

"I knew they wouldn't have an explanation for that." Blair's mom said, shaking her head while putting away the drawing. "As soon as she wakes up, she'll see a therapist."

"Maybe Luke's right," Blair's dad tried. He firmly believed in Blair, but he wouldn't just say that at loud when his wife was there. He knew he shouldn't go up against her. "Maybe there's something else to this."

"Like?"

He shrugged. "I think this bag," He motioned to the bag that was still on the table. "It may be proof that there is something else going on."

She shook her head. "I think this is their way of dealing with this situation." She sighed. "We have to make a decision." She looked at him. "And you know what the best one is."

He looked down but slowly nodded.

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